


Their History

by InkSiren



Series: Sharpe's Fanfic [14]
Category: Sharpe (TV), Sharpe - All Media Types, Sharpe Series - Bernard Cornwell
Genre: Banter, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-typical language, Gen, Light Angst, Reminiscing, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:00:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28185777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkSiren/pseuds/InkSiren
Summary: Hard to forget beating the tar out of another man, but the longer you spend at his side the funnier the irony of the first encounter gets.
Series: Sharpe's Fanfic [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2034673
Kudos: 4





	Their History

“You know,” Patrick says, sitting next to Richard and handing over a tin plate full of rabbit and potatoes “sometimes I remember that when we were first told to work together we beat the piss out of each other.”

“Aye, well it’s hard to forget innit,” Richard says, accepting the food and leaning against a stump, propping one knee up comfortably and stretching out his bad leg. “I was worried there for a while you were going to really try and kill me.”

“Good instinct,” Patrick says nonchalantly, scooping up rabbit and eating it with his fingers. “I certainly wanted to punch you a few more times.”

Richard snorts, stabbing at a potato and smiling. “It’s funny now, after all we’ve come through.” He is silent for a moment, then, fork still in his potato he says: “Do you know, when Captain Murray was dying he told me to get you on my side, and I asked him if that was an order.”

Patrick barks a laugh, and glances over. “You didn’t ask him that.”

Richard grins, nodding. “I did. I most certainly did.”

“Well now, I see what we’ve had for the past five years has been all a sham,” Patrick says, raising both eyebrows and dramatically turning his back. “See if I ever brew you a pot of tea again, and if I do you’ll want someone else to test it first.”

“Oh bugger off you couldn’t kill me,” he laughs. “Every good friendship starts with a bit of a tussle, least I’ve come to find. Gets all the bad blood out on the ground before you’ve a chance to get propper cross with each other. Not sure I trust a man who hasn’t threatened me at some point. No two people like everything about each other.”

“You’ve got that straight,” Patrick agrees, turning back around and chasing a potato through the grease from the rabbit. “Sometimes I just can’t stand your perfect hair.”

Richard wrinkles his nose. “My hair?”

“Aye, you’ve no business with hair like that, not on a man, and certainly not on a soldier.”

He laughs again, and Patrick grins, and they eat together like that for a while.

“It does make one wonder though,” Patrick says eventually, and when Richard looks at him there’s something a little sad in his eyes. “About how many more pairs like us might happen if we didn’t have orders to shoot every poor bastard not wearing our colors.”

Richard studies him for a moment, then drops his gaze, nodding a soft “Aye,” in response. “I am glad you didn’t kill me straight off though,” he says, still with a little bit of a smile. “Imagine what a mess you’d be in without me now.”

Patrick snorts. “Mess without you? Rather think I’d be avoiding a lot more trouble if I’d never met you.”

“Unfortunate you’ve no way to prove that,” Richard says, scooping up rabbit with his own fingers now and sucking the grease off. “You’d have to be rid of me.”

“There’s still plenty of time for _that_ to happen.”

Richard grins and Patrick snatches back his empty plate.


End file.
